The Lone Rider
by The Mulberry
Summary: Sheriff Woody is trying to solve the case of the murder of his best friend. Things get a little complicated when a man on horseback  Buzz cough cough tries to solve it for himself. EVERYONE IS HUMAN. BuzzXJessie WoodyXBoPeep


**He he he... NOTE: ALL THE CHARACTERS ARE HUMAN. (well duh) Set in a Western LOL. I apologize if anyone has a story similar to this. There are more than 300 stories on the Toy Story Fan Fiction thing, and I haven't read all of them.**

**I OWN NOTHING BUT THE PLOT LINE**

**Enjoy! :D**

Melancholy came along with the rain that poured down on the day of Andy Davis's funeral.

People crowded into the small chapel in the town square, determined to attend. Any one who had ever known Andy was his companion, and anyone who had heard of his demise had made an effort to show.

He had been a good man.

Seven years prior to his death, his father had passed, allowing him to inherit the Davis family fortune. He never spent more than he needed. Never waltzed around, flashing piles of cash to the people who had little more than enough to eat. He quietly accepted the money, bought a decent house for him and his sister, Bo Peep, and lived comfortably for a few years.

He had been murdered. That was all anyone knew. After two gunshots had been heard in his small home, his sister had ran in to find the body of the young man.

Everyone could feel his loss, but no one could feel it quite as much as the town's Sheriff. The two had been lifelong friends, practically brothers. No one could remember a time when they were angry with each other, or a time they had argued.

Beside Woody, and his sister, Jessie, was Bo Peep, crying as hard as any human being could. She had, after all, loved her older brother very much. He had been the only family she had left after her father had died, and now she was left with no one.

People slowly emptied out of the small church, eventually leaving only Woody and Jessie.

Jessie had a tear streaked face and was doing her best to stop crying. She had also been very close to Andy. Some had even suspected the two of being secret lovers, but Jessie had denied it. She approached Woody cautiously, who was standing next to Andy's casket, as if any sudden movement might break him.

"Woody," She said, voice trembling, forcing him to look into her eyes. "It'll be okay."

"How will it be okay?" Woody asked, a bit harshly, eyes sliding away from his sister and boring into the casket again, as if staring at it long enough would make it go away.

Jessie shook off the sting the tone of his voice left her. "It'll take some time, but sooner 'er later the big hole we're feelin' in our chests will go away. This emptiness will-"

"Don't," Woody warned, turning toward Jessie. "Don't say the emptiness will go away. Because it won't. Maybe for you... but not for me."

Jessie was surprised at her brother's reaction. She was only trying to help. "Ya know Woody," She said, the sudden anger she was feeling seeping into her voice. "Andy was _my_ friend, too. How dare you act as if you're the only one who..."

But the Sheriff wasn't listening anymore. Jessie's anger was contagious, and his mind was on a new train of thought now.

"I'm gonna find him..." He whispered.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm going to find him," Woody said louder, eyes daggers glaring at Andy's casket. "And when I do, I'm going to rip him apart, piece by piece. I'm gonna-"

"Woody!" Jessie gasped. "Stop talkin' like that! You're scarin' me! Revenge is wrong, that's not the way you should be handlin' this!"

"I think it's exactly the way we should handle this."

Jessie gaped at her brother, wide, emerald eyes tinged red and her face wet from tears. She had never seen him act like this. So sure, so ready to hurt someone. She knew how much Andy had meant to him, but she had never, ever imagined Woody acting like this. "But yer the Sheriff, enforcer of the law. You need to find this man, and arrest him bec-"

"I'm sorry Jess," Woody apologized darkly. "But the moment I find out who did... this... I'm going to-"

"No!" Jessie yelled, more tears pooling in her eyes. _"I'm _sorry. _I'm_ sorry that ya feel the need to act like yer gonna kill someone! Take a look at me!_ I'm _not ready to shoot somebody!"

"Well you didn't care about Andy the way I did!"

Jessie recoiled as if she had been slapped. Too shocked to speak, she stared sadly at her older brother for a moment before turning away from him and leaving, finally realizing that he needed time alone.

Woody stood over the casket of his lifelong friend. His hands in his pockets and his brow furrowed, he did his best to keep his composure.

He felt guilty for saying what did to Jessie. But she didn't understand. It hadn't been _her_ brother who had been shot, it was his. If Jessie had been killed he would have felt the same drive, the same determination.

'I can't believe Andy's gone...'

Woody had a sudden flashback of a time when he and Andy were twelve. Andy had seen Woody fighting with two other kids, a tall, wiry boy and a heavy built, medium sized boy, roughly the same age. He had come over to see what the problem was.

He couldn't remember why they were fighting, or if there was even a reason, just that the fight got very heated. Woody ended up shoving the taller one. It was a big mistake, because then he suddenly brought his fist back and clobbered Woody in the face. He fell to the ground and felt a sharp pain in his side. He had been kicked.

The rest of the fight was a blur, it had happened too fast. But from what he could gather, after he had been kicked, Andy had punched the boy who had attacked Woody. He had tackled him and fought him, while Woody got into a fight with the heavy one.

It wasn't a fight that they had won, definitely not. Woody and Andy were left bloody and bruised. But when it was over, Andy had pulled Woody to his feet and gave him a pat on the back.

"Hey," He said. "You win some, you lose some. Right?"

Andy wasn't angry. Woody had started the fight, the fight they had lost. But Andy didn't care.

"Yeah," Woody agreed breathlessly. "Right."

"My name's Andy." He held out his hand with a grin.

Woody stared at it for a moment, as if this boy might flip him if he took his hand. "Woody," He said after a minute, finally shaking.

"Well, it was nice meeting you, Woody." Andy smiled brightly and walked back to his house, indifferent as if nothing had happened.

Violence had sealed their friendship, violence had ended it.

Not able to contain himself any longer, a sob escaped Woody. Before he could regain control of himself, he fell to his knees and let out all of the emotion he had been holding in during the funeral.

Sorrow, anger, hate...

Andy was gone. Someone out there had shot him. An evil son of a bitch had shot Woody's brother.

He would find this man. He would end him.

**You will not see a chapter 2 until i see at least 7 reviews. Anonymous reviews welcome. (ohh and i apologize for any mistakes)**


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